A Beautiful Mess

Thoughts while travelling on a five-hour bus ride to Sagada, Philippines.

When your life is messed up, where do you go? Life is becoming like a leaf left out in the sun to dry, or on a winter, alone and withering, waiting to fall on the ground. It is changing colors from a healthy green to a gloomy brown. What do you do? Travel. You need to. You have to. It is like an itch that needs to be scratched and like a hunger in the pit of your stomach.

It’s been almost four months and I haven’t figured out what my life should all be about. I envy people who live out there in the open trying new things and welcoming strange experiences. I envy people who are out travelling and stepping into different places. The same people who stare at the moon during a clear night with a dreamy look and a clear mind. Those who are willing to hike cold mountains and walk on towering cliffs to appreciate life. These are my people. My kind of life. I wanted to but I have to stop caring before I can.

As the bus passes through a twisted ravine, I smile. As it goes deeper and deeper into cliffs and foggy grounds, I sigh. As it goes higher embracing cold winds and thick fogs, I celebrate. As I stare into the vastness of green trees, I realize my life is a mess but it’s a beautiful mess.